


obsession

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 17:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, he hated Derek so much that he became obsessed with him. Or the one where Stiles is just obsessed with Derek in general, and maybe that isn't such a bad thing, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	obsession

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a prompt on my tumblr, "Stiles is obsessed with Derek" and while I'm pretty sure this isn't what they wanted, this what my brain conjured up, so.
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely star_dust (I lost your tumblr username, sorry!).

Stiles likes kissing Derek. He likes kissing him and touching him and just being near him, to the point where he’s willing to skip out on curfew in order to keep kissing and touching him. Derek doesn’t mind, either. Stiles is pretty sure Derek enjoys the copious amounts of touching just as much as he does.  
  
At first, he hated Derek so much that he became obsessed with him.  
  
He would do stupid, mindless things, like “inadvertently” put Derek in danger by giving him the wrong address, or pointing him in the wrong direction on just how to deal with Scott and his whale–of–feelings. It was minor things at first, and he never really got to the point where he pinned a picture of Derek’s face to the wall and threw darts at it or anything–mostly because Derek was over far too often too begin with.  
  
The only reason he had tolerated Derek, and had not put his ass to rest with the obvious skill he possessed, which was no match for a werewolf even, was for Scott. He did it because he was trying to help Scott so he wouldn't destroy this town or brutally murder his new, hot and sweet-as-pie girlfriend. And there may have been the hope that he would get his old best friend back– the one that wasn’t so concerned  with girls and actually took time out of his day to check on Stiles (that didn't include bitching about said girlfriend) or going on and on about how perfect her hair color is, or how her eyes looked in the sun.  
  
It was fine, though; it’s not like he was complaining. Stiles knew it was bound to happen to one of them eventually; it was just coincidental that someone with incredibly good looks didn’t realize Stiles’ impenetrable charm, stunning face, and overall perfect bone structure first. He had hope. The light would come– eventually.  
  
Then it morphed into a hateful obsession to try to destroy the Alpha– for Derek’s sake (you know, helping the enemy to achieve selfish award and all) and Scott’s– because Stiles was pretty sure that when the Alpha was gone, Derek would be too , and then it would go back to normal around here. Or as normal as it could be, with the whole ‘Scott-is-a-blood-seeking-  
monster’ thing. But that was do-able.  
  
Stiles could do Scott freaking out and blowing his load (not literally) once a month because of the full moon. He could deal with having to lock Scott up somehow, efficiently, maybe with heavy-duty chains and a lot of duct tape– and listen to him scream and thrash and shout obscenities. He could even handle Scott trying to kill him again, because he’s fucking slick with a paintball gun and knows how to kill a man three different ways and he’s sure those talents apply to handling werewolves, too.  
  
Those were all do-able because they were for Scott, and Stiles had long since accepted that he would be willing to do almost anything to help him. He wasn’t able to handle Derek-freaking-Hale being in the same town as himself and Scott  (the guy was a monster, after all) who may or may not have been trying to destroy their lives one strand at a time.  
  
There was also the fact that Scott was always on edge around him, like Derek was going to swipe out with one perfectly clawed hand and kill him (he probably would have if he didn’t need Scott’s help in order to save-the-fucking-day, helpfully titled–because there wasn’t a day that  Derek didn’t need them–‘Derek Hales’ Entire Life’) .  
  
He wouldn’t put it past Derek to threaten Scott into submission, either.  
  
Now, he loves Derek so much that he’s no less obsessed with him, but in a much healthier way. It’s nice, a change of pace and the feeling of wanting someone just as much as they want you is exhilarating. He kind of understands now why Scott was so addicted to Allison those first couple of months, when the only thing pumping through his veins was Allison and her scent and basically her  everything . He feels the same about Derek, but just on a much smaller scale.  
  
  
He’s only human, after all.    
  
He no longer sits up at night thinking of plans to A) Trap Derek, B) Humiliate him, or C) Cause extreme bodily harm to the severity that needs immediate medical attention–though, that one didn’t make sense because the bastard had some type of werewolf healing power, so–and anyway, that whole plan was futile anyway. Stiles would end up dead and overnight shipped to his father’s mailbox in pieces by the time he even got through killing Derek.   
  
  
Sometimes, Stiles thinks he used to be blinded by hatred, at least back then. He may have took things a little too far, if the plans are anything to go by.  
  
He now devises plans to see him more, to make Derek feel good so he can hear those little kitten noises he lets out when he’s thoroughly pleased , or how he licks a strip up Stiles’ throat when he’s overwhelmed and needs something (Stiles) to calm him down. He likes how Derek grabs on tight to Stiles’ hips when Stiles does something particularly satisfying with his mouth or his hands or even his  teeth , and how Derek isn’t afraid to be rough with him.   
  
There are so many things that Stiles likes about Derek now that he can’t really believe that Stiles ever hated him.   
  
And he still kind of feels like a dick for that, too. He hates how he spent so much time hating Derek when he could’ve gotten to know him. He could’ve got to know  that kind of perfect-but-broken man behind his stony and asshole exterior and could’ve seen what exactly was hidden. But, he more than makes up for that now- with the half-bitten kisses and sweet-nothings whispered into his ears.  
  
Derek never says anything in return, never has to; he just presses clammy fingertips into Stiles’ skin a little rougher, his teeth a little sharper but it’s because of those things that Stiles knows that Derek hears him.  
  
Somehow, even when Derek made it clear that he never wanted to, he always heard Stiles. Loud and clear as a bell.  
  
So, yeah, it’s kind of gotten to the point where Stiles can say with confidence that he’s sort of obsessed. But in the totally healthy way. He can balance school and friends and father-son-time and still manage to see Derek almost everyday. It’s nice having something to look forward to that’s not spending free time researching on the internet.  
  
“Stiles,” Derek whispers, trailing kisses down Stiles’ neck and he unconsciously throws his head back to allow him more access. He knows that Derek will never push it too far, that he will never take the extra step and turn Stiles. He knows this because the only person that’s more opposed to the idea than Stiles is  Derek .  
  
“Derek,” Stiles whispers, successfully woken from his reverie, but it’s not like he minds.  
  
Thinking about Derek is nice, most of the time, but it’s even better to have him in the flesh, sitting between his thighs or cuddling up against his back, close and real and warm.  
  
“You’re thinking too much again,” Derek says.  
  
Stiles smirks. “Yeah, well, I have to do enough for–hey! What was that for?” Stiles yelps in pain because there’s suddenly too-sharp teeth digging into his neck, probably at the jab.  
  
“You know what that was for,” Derek retorts, but it probably comes out softer than he intends. There are fingers in his hair, now, suddenly, running through the short tufts of hair that somehow are long enough to look messy even if there’s no hair to begin with. It feels nice so Stiles doesn’t tell him to stop, just runs fingers over Derek’s near-perfect jawline and sighs in contentment.  
  
“What were you thinking about anyway?” Derek asks after a while.  
  
Right now,  Stiles thinks that Derek is kind of alarmingly beautiful, with the way that the sun is casting shadows on his face. He’s the kind of pretty that you might find in magazines or on one of those stupidly addicting reality shows that MTV puts out. It’s in these moments that Stiles doesn’t understand.  
  
  
He doesn’t understand how someone that looks like Derek can end up with someone like him–serious different levels of attraction there, man–how someone like Derek can see through the level of bullshit that Stiles spews (half because of his ADD and half because it’s his own personal defense mechanism. Derek has a mask and anger, and Stiles has sarcasm and a mean silver tongue.   
  
But somehow he sees past it, or he ignores it, or maybe he sees that it’s there and doesn’t think it’s a problem. Whatever it is, Derek chose  him .  
  
Derek’s eyes are watching him in the way that they do when he thinks Stiles is thinking too hard. It’s the closest to worry Derek will probably ever show, and it makes warmth flood through his chest.  
  
“You,” Stiles says, and presses faint kisses to Derek’s mouth. “Always you.”


End file.
